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Mr. Jingles puts kibosh on courthouse rat problem

Paul Johnson, custodian at the Henderson County Historic Courthouse, pets Mr. Jingles, the courthouse's new cat, on Monday. Johnson is one of the first people in the courthouse each morning and usually feeds Mr. Jingles.

Published: Tuesday, June 18, 2013 at 4:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Monday, June 17, 2013 at 5:00 p.m.

A rat infestation at the Historic Courthouse is history, thanks to Mr. Jingles, an abandoned tabby brought in from Henderson County's animal shelter as a rat deterrent.

The rodents plagued the building for months, raiding snacks and sugar packets in the Heritage Museum, killing potted plants in Paralegal Kathy Finotti's office and gnashing about 30 “Henderson County Recycles” T-shirts into a rat's nest in the basement.

“They were everywhere,” said Megan Piner, the county's environmental programs coordinator whose box of promotional T-shirts was unceremoniously recycled by the vermin.

Maintenance crews put out rat poison, “and that's when we found ‘Ratzilla' in Commissioner (Tommy) Thompson's office,” said County Manager Steve Wyatt. “He was in Europe, and the smell of Ratzilla decomposing alerted me that something was afoul — more than usual — in Commissioner Thompson's office.”

The decaying rat carcass raised not only a foul stench, but the possibility that other poisoned rats could crawl into the walls of the courthouse and die.

“And that's awful,” said Wyatt, who began to mull over how to build a better rat trap.

Enter “Rascal,” a black-and-gray striped cat up ready for adoption at the county's animal shelter and physically suited for the task at hand.

“We had a size requirement, because we didn't want him to be outmanned, so to speak,” Wyatt said, adding the large droppings left behind indicated the rats weren't of average size. “Rascal was a big boy, but he was a scaredy cat. He spent his time hiding, both from the county, the IRS and the NSA. So I fired him.”

Shortly after arriving, Piner said Rascal “got in the wall and hid and we couldn't get him out.”

Despite his timidity, county staff thought the cat deserved more of a chance to prove himself, but Wyatt saw the writing on the wall.

“I caught a little grief from employees when I terminated him, but I knew that we had several eager applicants waiting in the wings,” he said.

Second up was Mr. Jingles, a short-haired tabby that Brad Rayfield, director of the county's Animal Services Center, had originally eyed for the job. But at the time Wyatt called for help, he had not been fixed, micro-chipped or inoculated for rabies. When Rascal returned to the shelter (where he was later adopted out), Mr. Jingles was ready.

“Our next applicant proved to be a more worthy opponent,” said Wyatt. “He's leaner and perhaps a bit hungrier. The reason we call him Mr. Jingles is he had this little bell on his collar, which he ditched himself. We know why he did that, because it put him at a disadvantage when it came to stalking his prey.”

Starting in early May, Mr. Jingles made himself at home in the basement of the courthouse, where he has a bed, a litter box and toys donated by cat-lover Terry Wilson, clerk to the board of commissioners. During the day, he's kept to non-public areas, but he roams at night.

And the rats disappeared.

“We believe Mr. Jingles is relocating them elsewhere,” Wyatt said. “I don't know that he's stacking them up, but I believe they're seeking greener pastures. He's the best employee I've got and I don't have to pay his health insurance.”

“He's done a good job of keeping the rats away,” agreed Joanne Hinson, a legal administrative assistant who no longer has to lock up her snacks.

Not only has Mr. Jingles solved the courthouse's rat problem, he's become a feline ambassador of sorts, consorting with politicians and winning over staff members who previously considered themselves dog people.

“He has the run of the secure part of the building,” Wyatt said. “He'll visit engineering, legal and budget. He's not real happy with budget, apparently, because he doesn't spend much time there. He's particularly fond of Commissioner (Grady) Hawkins and the clerk to the board, Terry Wilson. And he did crawl up in the sheriff's lap and sniff him.”

How did Sheriff Charlie McDonald react to that? “He's always cool as a cucumber.”

Custodian Paul Johnson is usually the first in in the morning, so he feeds Mr. Jingles — if Wilson doesn't beat him to it. The employees share litter box chores. The biggest challenge for staff is keeping Mr. Jingles from escaping. Signs warn courthouse visitors to “Beware of Cat” for the purposes of keeping him put.

<p>A rat infestation at the Historic Courthouse is history, thanks to Mr. Jingles, an abandoned tabby brought in from Henderson County's animal shelter as a rat deterrent. </p><p>The rodents plagued the building for months, raiding snacks and sugar packets in the Heritage Museum, killing potted plants in Paralegal Kathy Finotti's office and gnashing about 30 “Henderson County Recycles” T-shirts into a rat's nest in the basement. </p><p>“They were everywhere,” said Megan Piner, the county's environmental programs coordinator whose box of promotional T-shirts was unceremoniously recycled by the vermin.</p><p>Maintenance crews put out rat poison, “and that's when we found 'Ratzilla' in Commissioner (Tommy) Thompson's office,” said County Manager Steve Wyatt. “He was in Europe, and the smell of Ratzilla decomposing alerted me that something was afoul — more than usual — in Commissioner Thompson's office.”</p><p>The decaying rat carcass raised not only a foul stench, but the possibility that other poisoned rats could crawl into the walls of the courthouse and die. </p><p>“And that's awful,” said Wyatt, who began to mull over how to build a better rat trap. </p><p>Enter “Rascal,” a black-and-gray striped cat up ready for adoption at the county's animal shelter and physically suited for the task at hand. </p><p>“We had a size requirement, because we didn't want him to be outmanned, so to speak,” Wyatt said, adding the large droppings left behind indicated the rats weren't of average size. “Rascal was a big boy, but he was a scaredy cat. He spent his time hiding, both from the county, the IRS and the NSA. So I fired him.”</p><p>Shortly after arriving, Piner said Rascal “got in the wall and hid and we couldn't get him out.” </p><p>Despite his timidity, county staff thought the cat deserved more of a chance to prove himself, but Wyatt saw the writing on the wall.</p><p>“I caught a little grief from employees when I terminated him, but I knew that we had several eager applicants waiting in the wings,” he said.</p><p>Second up was Mr. Jingles, a short-haired tabby that Brad Rayfield, director of the county's Animal Services Center, had originally eyed for the job. But at the time Wyatt called for help, he had not been fixed, micro-chipped or inoculated for rabies. When Rascal returned to the shelter (where he was later adopted out), Mr. Jingles was ready.</p><p>“Our next applicant proved to be a more worthy opponent,” said Wyatt. “He's leaner and perhaps a bit hungrier. The reason we call him Mr. Jingles is he had this little bell on his collar, which he ditched himself. We know why he did that, because it put him at a disadvantage when it came to stalking his prey.”</p><p>Starting in early May, Mr. Jingles made himself at home in the basement of the courthouse, where he has a bed, a litter box and toys donated by cat-lover Terry Wilson, clerk to the board of commissioners. During the day, he's kept to non-public areas, but he roams at night. </p><p>And the rats disappeared.</p><p>“We believe Mr. Jingles is relocating them elsewhere,” Wyatt said. “I don't know that he's stacking them up, but I believe they're seeking greener pastures. He's the best employee I've got and I don't have to pay his health insurance.”</p><p>“He's done a good job of keeping the rats away,” agreed Joanne Hinson, a legal administrative assistant who no longer has to lock up her snacks. </p><p>Not only has Mr. Jingles solved the courthouse's rat problem, he's become a feline ambassador of sorts, consorting with politicians and winning over staff members who previously considered themselves dog people.</p><p>“He has the run of the secure part of the building,” Wyatt said. “He'll visit engineering, legal and budget. He's not real happy with budget, apparently, because he doesn't spend much time there. He's particularly fond of Commissioner (Grady) Hawkins and the clerk to the board, Terry Wilson. And he did crawl up in the sheriff's lap and sniff him.”</p><p>How did Sheriff Charlie McDonald react to that? “He's always cool as a cucumber.”</p><p>Custodian Paul Johnson is usually the first in in the morning, so he feeds Mr. Jingles — if Wilson doesn't beat him to it. The employees share litter box chores. The biggest challenge for staff is keeping Mr. Jingles from escaping. Signs warn courthouse visitors to “Beware of Cat” for the purposes of keeping him put. </p><p>“He definitely keeps things interesting,” Piner said. “He tried to come into a commissioners' meeting (during the budget process). He was outside the door, just going nuts.”</p><p>He may be new on the job, but Mr. Jingles knows who rings his dinner bell.</p><p>Reach Axtell at 828-694-7860 or than.axtell@blueridgenow.com.</p>